


Syonymous with Friendship

by captainoflifeandlemons



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, Funerals, Gen, fluff and sadness, pillow forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainoflifeandlemons/pseuds/captainoflifeandlemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock does not have friends.<br/>What he does have is a James T. Kirk.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, Starfleet, or any associated characters and concepts (much to my dismay and despair).

“Spock, it’s a pillow fort. It doesn’t have to be strategically placed.” The boy shot Spock an annoyed look, which he met coolly.

“I do not see the purpose of such an exercise to begin with, Kirk.”

“It’s called playing, Spock. What, don’t have that on your planet? And call me Jim.”

“Simply because my family is staying in your residence during this diplomatic—”

Jim, evidently giving up on the fort, threw the pillow he was holding at Spock. It slid off, the Vulcan giving no visible reaction. Unwavering, James grabbed another one and whacked his house guest in the side.

“I don’t understand what has provoked your acts of violence.” He did, though. Spock had gone through such things enough to understand. All beings feared the unknown, and he was different. He was an uncertainty, a liability. Offensive reactions were only logical.

Kirk set down his pillow, looking at Spock with an emotion that was somewhat difficult to identify.  “No. _No._ It’s a pillow fight. It’s a game, Spock. I hit you and you hit me back. With pillows, see, so nobody gets hurt.” Before the other boy could protest, Kirk continued. “Look, just think of it as a training exercise.” He made encouraging noises as Spock dubiously responded with a halfhearted hit to James’ feet.

“That’s the spirit!”

To say that the air was soon thick with the kids’ missiles would be a gross exaggeration, even by human standards. However, when they were done the room was sufficiently messed, the majority of the pillows scattered vaguely on Spock’s side of the room and a few well-aimed cushions just to the side of Jim.

“Come on, throw it!”

Spock eyed the final unused pillow in his hand. It would not, he knew, show sufficient gratitude if he were to win the game himself, despite Kirk’s protests that it could not be won. He aimed too high, too close, and let go. It would miss perfectly.

Jim watched its arch for a minute, then with a set jaw and gleaming eyes dove. He landed under the pillow seconds before it hit the ground, gasping slightly on impact.

“Kirk—”

“ _Jim_.”

“Jim, what are you—”

“I’ve been shot, Captain.”

“Captain? I do not—”

“Just go with it! The Klingons captured our ship. We’re Starfleet, like my dad. You’re Captain; I’m Commander. We fought bravely but you were injured and your weapon destroyed.”

Spock found himself nodding.

“Their leader fired on you before fleeing. I couldn’t let you die.”

“Are we pretending—”

“Don’t say pretending! That makes it stop being real.” James took a moment from dying to look indignant.

“My apologies. So…you did it to save me? You…you took that bullet?”

Jim nodded before collapsing back to the floor. “Captain—Captain.”

“I am here, Commander.”

“Get—to—the ship. Take it back.”

“The ship?”

“The pillow fort! Take back the ship, save yourself. And tell everyone back home that I died…with…honor.” At this, Jim closed his eyes and slowed his breath.

“No, Commander. You _lived_ with honor.” Spock walked slowly over to the pillow fort, only half completed. Kirk had ignored the comprehensive architectural plans Spock had drawn up entirely. Still, he crawled inside. After a moment of silence, someone (presumably James Tiberius Kirk) made engine noises. Unsure what exactly to do, Spock reenacted a flight simulation he had once done, hands flying across nonexistent controls.

“No.”

Jim glanced at the fort. “What?”

“No. I will not allow my first officer to be left lying dead on the ground when there weren’t any enemies here to begin with.”

“Spock, what’re you _doing_?” Kirk, aghast, watched as his playmate strode calmly from the flimsy structure. “You’re not _‘sposed_ to do that.”

“Commander, I order you to not be dead. It’s illogical, inconvenient, and highly unprofessional.”

“Spock—”

“Captain.”

“Captain!”

“Commander, get up.”

Kirk, glaring, did so.

“Good. Now we can report back to Starfleet that all enemies were overcome with no casualties on our part.” Spock gave his Commander a slight nod.

Jim laughed. “You’re weird. I like you.” He took off, throwing open the hall door. “Come on, Starfleet’s this way!”

Spock hovered on the edge of the room for a moment, then followed at a brisk walk. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “I’m right behind you, Commander. Lead the way.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Long-term memory does not fully develop in humans until they attain a certain age, so I assume…as you may have been told, my father will be negotiating Starfleet’s treaty with the academy, as he once…I believe we have met before, Captain, and your son…._

Spock slowly stood, gathering his things. The ship would be arriving soon, and as both a potential future member of the academy and the son of an ambassador, he would be expected to join in welcoming the USS Kelvin.  As there was not a headquarters within the city, Fleet ships were seen rarely, ones from other planets even more so.

Breaking out of his reverie, Spock stood next to his mother and waited. Among those landing would be the infamous Captain Kirk and his son, who had begged admission aboard the starship. The Captain, feeling a perfectly safe month-long interplanetary journey could only be beneficial to his son’s education and future career, had pulled some strings.

 _Ah_. Now they were landing. Hands folded neatly behind his back, Spock nodded greetings to the crew filing out. None of them looked at him twice (although several approached his father). _Until._

He was older now. Of course. Probably in his early teens, hair longer, grin crooked, gait confident as he strode towards Spock.

Kirk. Welcome to Vulcan. You may not recall, but—”

His eyebrow raised, the boy responded. “I thought I told you to call me Jim. Nice to see you, Spock!” James cast him a smile, nodding, walking…away. “Gotta keep up with my dad. Talk to you later, maybe.”

“It’s a small city. The chances are probable,” Spock said quietly to no one.

\--

Spock recognized the voices immediately. They were fighting again. Their families would be displeased; the one tone he could not place sounded human. It did not do to offend visiting officials or even their inferior coworkers.

“Were your behavioral habits so inadequate that Earth would not allow your remaining there?”

“It is often said that overconfidence and a quick temper hide insufficient intelligence. Tell us, is this true?”

“Your father is regarded as one of Starfleet’s finest. It is a pity. He must be so disappointed in you.”

With a sinking suspicion of who was being targeted, Spock rose to look from the window. James T. Kirk stood defensively in front of a semi-circle of Vulcans, five or so all around Spock’s age.

“Don’t you bring my father into this!”

“I do not believe you’re in a position to negate the terms of this meeting.”

“Say that to my fist!”

“I see your ability to insult is impeded by your inability to do anything else.”

Spock reached the door to the street just as Jim flew at his adversaries. He was obviously undertrained in hand-to-hand combat, and they retaliated with scorn.

“It shows poor decorum to abuse a visiting personage from other Federation planets,” Spock called. His fellow students halted their offenses, Kirk slipping quickly out of their circle and, with a hesitant backwards glance, into the doorframe of a building.

“Not if the attack was provoked and in one’s self defense,” the apparent leader replied with a blank face. “Spock.”

Spock did not reply.

“Tell me, do you count as a guest from foreign space? My apologies. I thought one had to have a home in the Federation to qualify.”

They advanced on him quickly, Jim and the original disagreement forgotten.

“Of course, I suppose you could not resist helping your friend. Your lack of emotional restraint shows a clear human dominance in your brain. We will gladly teach you a lesson in which side you should take in further dilemmas.” The older boy shoved Spock, who did not bother to catch himself as he fell. From his position on the ground, he could see Kirk’s face framed in the doorway. Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself one comment.

“Silence is the proper defense against unwanted conversation.”

He said nothing more until hours had passed and he dragged himself up the stairs to his room. It would be unreasonable to inform his mother (who would only fret) or father (who should not be bothered with trivial matters) of the incident. Safely inside, he let out a soft cry of pain.

\--

A knock. Spock moved carefully over to his door, opening it with his uninjured hand.

"Wow. You look terrible." Kirk walked in without asking and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. "I don't...I...does it hurt?"

Vulcans did not lie. Humans could. "No."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...I was an idiot. I started it. Sorry."

"There is no need to apologize." Spock closed the door but remained standing.

"I swear, that's the last time I back out of a fight. Ever." Jim played with his hands for a moment. When no reply was made, he looked up. "Spock. Why'd you do it?"

Spock stared back, face unreadable. "Silence is the proper response to unwanted conversation." He fled the room, leaving a bewildered Kirk in his wake.


	3. Chapter 3

Spock attended exactly three funerals in his lifetime. He always made some excuse for the others. People called him heartless, but it was alright. The deceased would have understood. He could not run the risk of letting his emotions control him in front of others. True Vulcans mourned alone.

\--

He would never speak to his father again.

As he sat among the others in attendance this was the one thought which stayed constant in Spock's head amongst swirling memories of Sarek. When his mother had died, he had been away on the Enterprise. Nobody had thought to inform him. They did not, no doubt, want to run the risk of emotionally compromising an officer. He had returned in celebration. It had not lasted.

This was one of the few times in his life in which he had to remind himself that all knowledge, even that of death, was good. This sparked a realization.

 _I did not know my father._ Spock had respected him, certainly, and even loved him at times. But he had not known him.

With a flash of anger, he realized that no one else here had either. The spoke of his father's intelligence and sympathy, of his exploits on other planets and what he brought to their civilization. Spock knew with a chilling certainty that none had ever bothered to discover Sarek's favorite color. His hobbies. His greatest regret.

Spock knew this because neither had he.

Abruptly, he stood up, bowed, and left.

\--

“James Tiberius Kirk was one of the finest captains Starfleet ever had.”

_The ship was in chaos. As usual. Alarms, lights, the strained shouts of those in command. They had been hit, the damage being—as Montgomery Scott had put it—just about everywhere. At the time they had been in orbit around what was thought to be an uninhabited planet. They were wrong._

“Although perhaps somewhat recalcitrant at times, Captain Kirk never failed Starfleet in his valor, lateral thinking, and dedication.” 

_They had been ordered to evacuate. Most of the shuttles had left already, as had most of the crew. One, Spock knew, did not plan on departing. Pace quickening, he entered the room._

_“Captain.”_

_“Spock.”_

“When what had been intended as an ordinary reconnaissance mission went wrong, Kirk selflessly insured to the best of his ability the safety of those onboard.”

_“For the last time, I am ordering you off of this ship, Commander!”_

_Spock strapped himself in calmly. “In that case, I resign. You do not have the right to control the actions of civilians outside the force."_

_“I hate you.”_

_"I believe I can live with that.”_

_Kirk smirked. It was the last time Spock would see that particular affectionately offensive smile. “I really don’t think you can.”_

_“Then at least I can die with it.”_

“Two months ago today, Starfleet lost both a captain and a ship. I mourn both, but I believe the first loss was by far the more costly. The Captain and I had a relationship that, if not entirely synonymous with friendship, was forged from mutual respect and the recognition of a common goal. That goal, as you may know, was to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no one has gone before. I believe that we reached that goal. Thank you.”

_Slowly, he regained consciousness. Spock still didn’t know how he had survived the crash. By all means he should not have. He didn’t think much of it at the time. His eyes and mind were drawn to Kirk._

_“Spock.” Feebly, the Captain offered a smile. He was shaking slightly from blood loss, had been hit with shrapnel. Spock didn’t know how much time had passed since the crash._

_“Stay still, Captain.”_

_“Jim. You quit, so just go with it.”_

_“There should be a medical kit nearby. A ship will surely be on its way soon; the others will inform headquarters of precisely what happened.”_

_“Spock—”_

_“Captain. Jim. Try not to speak. I’ve found the medkit and as soon as I can get it out you will be fine.”_

_“I thought Vulcans couldn’t lie. Spock, I—Starfleet will be angry with me. I crashed their…their…ship…”_

_“James Tiberius Kirk. They will be furious.”_

_“You think so?”_

_“Naturally. You’re proving them wrong once more.”_

_“And on what count this time?”_

_“They claim not to train heroes.”_

_\--_

The last funeral Spock attended was his own. As he was the last of his crew and of his family to die, he was the only one in attendance. True Vulcans mourn alone. Spock was never mourned at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo, everyone, and thanks for reading this (assuming, in fact, that you did). This work, my first to be posted on AO3, is based mainly off of the reboot movies with a bit of influence from TOS. I hope you enjoyed it. If you notice inaccuracies of any sort, please let me know.


End file.
